Thin Ice

by Mikael Engström

  ‘Brilliant, Oskar. Now we’ve only got the peas left.’

  Oskar didn’t answer. He was walking along the beach and around the forest searching for meatballs. He found a few and that cheered him up.

  Mik woke with a start and sat up. The tent canvas was damp with dew and it was still night. His body was covered in sweat. He had been chased awake by a nightmare. A monster with a dreadful shriek that made the bones in his body shatter like glass. Only a dream, only a dream. He felt himself getting calmer. His heart was racing at top speed. He breathed deeply and lay down again.

  Then a shriek came from the forest, right up close. A long-drawn-out shriek. Mik got goosebumps all over his arms, stomach, back and legs. The hairs on the back of his head stood on end. The shriek came again, like an icicle plunged deep into his heart.

  He elbowed Pi, who muttered, ‘What is it? I want to sleep.’

  ‘Something’s shrieking out there. There’s something in the forest.’

  ‘There are lots of things in the forest,’ said Pi and snuggled down in her sleeping-bag, hugging her pillow.

  The shriek came again. Pi opened her eyes wide into two circles and looked at Mik. A heavy beat of wings could be heard over the tent, disappearing down the river.

  ‘Only a bird,’ said Pi, and she turned over, punching her pillow.

  ‘A big bird?’ said Mik.

  ‘Yes,’ said Pi. ‘Only a big bird. A bird of prey.’

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, sounding irritated. ‘Go to sleep now.’

  How big? he wanted to ask. But he kept quiet and lay awake until the sun burned through the tent canvas.

  THE KARMA SNAKE

  The roar from the Borg rapids increased, getting louder and louder. They secured everything that was loose onboard.

  Pi was in command and gave orders, holding on to the mast. She promised that everything would be all right, that they would manage it. Jaws were clenched, muscles tensed.

  They went over the edge and the wild, foaming water took a hard grip of the raft. It whirled and lurched, tumbled and spun. Pi shouted but nobody heard what she said. Ropes snapped, one by one. The shore and the forest rushed past. They held on, battling to stay in place in the middle of a storm of boiling water.

  The tent was ripped loose and was swept away. The loosened logs squealed and fought against each other. Mik got his hand trapped and he was almost washed overboard.

  Water forced its way into their ears and mouths; it grasped and tore at their bodies. The mast broke in two and Pi was left hanging onto a rope. The raft rose up against a giant rock, rotated and went spinning off into calmer water.

  No one was missing, but they exchanged terrified looks. Oskar got sick. Everything had been swept off the raft: mast, tent, sleeping-bags, pillows. Nothing remained. Logs had been wrenched apart and bobbed up and down on their own. No one cheered. The whole adventure had been swept away. The matches were wet. By some kind of miracle the tin of peas had survived, only the label had been washed off.

  ‘Can we go home now?’ said Oskar. ‘Have we finished running away?’

  Nobody answered. Everyone knew it was a very long way home. Tens of kilometres through forests with no roads.

  They dragged the raft ashore and began joining ropes and lashing logs together. They found two paddles tumbling around in a backwater below the rapids, but none of the other equipment. The raft was unstable. They needed more rope.

  ‘But it didn’t break up,’ said Pi. ‘I told you the raft would make it. Didn’t I? I was right.’

  No one answered.

  The river remained calm for the rest of the day. They paddled and used poles to get along. A chilly wind blew up through the valley and the sun hid behind clouds. Their clothes would not dry. Hunger clawed at their stomachs.

  They made a camp for the night under a fir tree and made a bed of branches and moss, propping branches all around to make it a proper little hut. Mik thought he heard something carried on the wind: a faint grinding sound, like the noise of a big factory. He didn’t mention it. They crawled in under the fir tree and shared the tin of peas.

  ‘I’m sure we’ll reach some bridge or village tomorrow,’ said Pi. ‘We can ring from there and they can come and collect us.’

  They crept close together to keep warm. Pi put her arm around Mik.

  ‘The peas weren’t exactly filling,’ said Filip.

  ‘Eat a pine cone,’ said Pi.

  Mik hoped they wouldn’t come to a bridge or village tomorrow. He hoped … well, what did he hope? To live under a tree with Pi for the rest of his life? If Mik had to choose between going down the rapids again or returning to the Tormentors, he would choose the rapids. But that was his choice. Mik was pretty sure Pi, Oskar and Filip were regretting everything. They could simply have waved him goodbye as he stepped into Parrot Earrings’ car. That would have been the easiest thing for them to do. But no, instead they had put the escape plan into action. He liked them very much.

  The Paragraph shrieked in the forest and it started to rain.

  Pi gathered sorrel and fresh green pine needles for breakfast. They tasted bitter and very green. Like eating the actual forest.

  Oskar said, ‘I don’t want to eat stuff from the flipping forest.’

  He spat and coughed and started talking about toast and marmalade. Pi told him to stop, but Oskar laid a breakfast table in thin air.

  ‘Then I’ll have one with liver pâté. No I won’t, I’ll –’

  ‘Shut it,’ said Filip, twisting a twig of new pine needles between his fingers.

  ‘Cheese roll,’ said Oskar. ‘Dipped in hot chocolate so the cheese gets melted and stringy.’

  Filip threw the twig right in Oskar’s eye and they were soon wrestling among the moss and pine needles.

  ‘This is crap,’ shouted Filip. ‘We’re lost without food and you talk about cheese rolls. I’ll murder you.’

  Pi separated them.

  ‘We’re following the river. We’re not lost.’

  ‘And where does that take us, then?’ yelled Filip. ‘To the sea? To China? I want to go home.’

  ‘Cheese roll,’ said Oskar.

  Their stomachs cried out. An ocean of corroding digestive juices with only a few pine needles sailing around. Mik said nothing; he thought it was all his fault. He was the one who was the problem. The problem child. Without him they wouldn’t be here with only pine needles to eat.

  ‘Liver pâté,’ said Oskar, and Filip flew at him again.

  ‘Cheese roll,’ shouted Oskar, as Filip stuffed a handful of moss into his mouth.

  ‘Stop!’ roared Pi. ‘Look at Mik, he’s not moaning.’

  Filip and Oskar stopped fighting and stared at Mik with sulky expressions which could not be misinterpreted.

  Mik pointed at the raft and said, ‘We’ll get to a bridge or village today, I’m sure.’

  ‘Aaaarrrrggggghhhh!’ bellowed Filip. ‘It’s all your fault. Do you know that? You’re the one with the problem. You’re a wino’s kid. I haven’t got any problems. What the hell am I doing here?’

  It went quiet. Mik looked out over the river. Pi tried to untangle her hair. The game had ended long ago.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mik. ‘I’m a wino’s kid. I haven’t forgotten that.’

  Filip was right. Mik knew this running away was pointless. Every running away was pointless. Even if he took himself ten thousand kilometres away it wouldn’t help. Just like Filip said, he was the one with the problem. And you couldn’t escape from yourself. You always ended up on a cannibal beach.

  ‘We’ll get going now,’ said Pi. ‘And no talk of food. Otherwise we’ll go mad.’

  They untied the raft and propelled it out into the river. The sky cleared and the current glittered in the morning sun.

  They poled and paddled. They all thought about food. Mik tried thinking about dog poo and porridge, but he would even be able to eat porridge if he only had some jam to go with it. That’s how hungry he
was.

  The river flowed into a deep crevasse in the rock. Dizzying vertical walls of stone rose up on each side. The raft floated on as if in a corridor. The air turned cool and the sun could not penetrate down between the stone walls. The water ran deep and black.

  Mik heard the factory sound, dark, heavy and grinding. The raft picked up speed. There was no river bank, only rock straight down into the black water. It didn’t sound like water going over rapids. This was something else. Something much worse.

  ‘Pizza,’ said Oskar, and Filip went completely crazy. They started to fight, using the paddles, chasing each other round, yelling and waving the oars.

  ‘Shush,’ said Pi.

  But they kept going.

  ‘Stop it now. Listen.’

  Oskar and Filip froze with their paddles in mid air. Something was getting closer. That was how it felt, not that they were on their way towards something. The sound got louder. They couldn’t see where it was coming from, the river curved slightly in its gulley. Something immense was approaching.

  Everyone looked at Pi and waited for her to say something, hoped that, as usual, she would know what they ought to do.

  The raft bumped into the rock wall and spun round. The noise grew and rebounded between the walls. An enormous monster was hunting them, faster and faster. They paddled to one side and tried to hold on to outcrops of rock, but the pull was already too strong. The heavy raft was going too fast and there was no bank to escape to. Only bare flat rock walls. There was no way to make it stop. The raft went round the curve and they saw the river disappear into a huge, steaming, roaring hole.

  This was not rapids. This was a waterfall.

  Oskar wanted to jump into the water, but Pi stopped him.

  ‘Lie down!’ she shouted. ‘Lie down and hold on.’

  ‘The Karma Falls!’ shouted Mik. ‘We’re going to die.’

  ‘Mummy!’ shouted Oskar.

  Filip said nothing. He was one big, gaping mouth. They all lay down and grabbed the rope. Pi reached out her hand to Mik. He took it and squeezed it hard.

  The raft went over the edge, standing up on end. The waterfall swallowed them like a serpent shaking its head towards the sky to swallow its prey. The raft fell and landed on stones. Ropes snapped and logs flew in all directions. Mik saw Oskar flying through the air and then he himself was spun round in circles and lost hold of Pi’s hand.

  He was tossed about among logs and rope, grazed his knees and arms, and was hurled backwards and forwards among bubbles and foam. He was sucked down into deep water and whirled around with logs as if he was in a blender, and felt a ringing blow on his head. Using his legs, he pushed up from the river bed, shooting himself to the surface through the whirls of the current. Swam and fought towards the surface, managed to gulp in some air before being pulled down again.

  Mik didn’t know which way was up. Perhaps he was swimming towards the bottom. The whale sang in his ear. Whales and snakes and the sky far above. Bubbling, hissing and howling filled his ears. Someone yelled, ‘Swim!’

  ‘Swim!’

  He saw the sky, gasped some air, and far away stood Pi on a flat piece of rock below the wall of stone.

  ‘Mik!’ she screamed. ‘Swim. Keep on swimming.’

  Filip and Oskar dragged themselves to safety. Mik was sucked down again, rolled over and over and fought with the Snake. He felt it wrap itself round his arms and legs, wind itself around his body. Squeezing.

  ‘You’re swimming,’ shouted Pi.

  The Snake got weaker and weaker. Mik came out of the current and worked his way towards Pi. His muscles burned.

  ‘You can swim.’

  Mik lost concentration completely and began to struggle and splash. He sank. Struggled even more and sank faster. Pi jumped in and dragged him up onto the rock.

  ‘You swam,’ said Pi.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mik. He was absolutely finished, his body shaking. ‘I must have done.’

  He looked over towards the rushing water, saw the turbulence that rotated under the waterfall. The raft’s logs whirled round without getting anywhere.

  ‘Your forehead’s bleeding,’ said Pi.

  Mik felt it with his hand; it turned red.

  ‘It’s nothing.’

  Things were worse for Oskar. He sat in silence on the flat rock and stared vacantly. They waved their hands in front of his face, shouted in his ears. But no reaction. He was completely gone. His gaze was a thousand kilometres away.

  ‘Oskar has seen the Snake,’ said Mik.

  ‘What lousy snake?’ yelled Filip. ‘There’s no snake here. No raft either. No food, nothing. This is so stupid that …’

  He started to cry.

  ‘We’ll go home now,’ said Pi. ‘We’ll climb up and go home.’

  She looked at Mik with eyes that were waiting for his answer.

  He nodded.

  AUTUMN

  The police, the army and local people had been looking for them. A helicopter had searched along the river, but no one could believe they had taken themselves so far in such a short time on a simple raft. They had been looking in the wrong places.

  The joy was overwhelming when they returned, dirty and hungry but alive. Parrot Earrings had left long before. Mik was going to be allowed to stay all through the autumn. Lena had fought hard and arranged for him to stay with her until the future placement was decided.

  Everyone was happy and Bengt had gone round the whole village with a petition. The Citizens of Selet in Support of Mik Continuing to Live in the Community. All 163 residents of the village had signed their names. The senile and the small babies – all had made their mark on the list. Bengt even went to Bertil’s house and, without either of them saying a word to each other, Bertil had added his name.

  Bengt said Mik, Pi, Oskar and Filip were the first to have survived a trip over the Stor Falls. It gave them a kind of glory. But Oskar could remember nothing about the raft journey and it was a week before he started talking again. He had been to the hospital in Umeå and had his head X-rayed. They saw nothing in particular.

  ‘Of course they didn’t see anything,’ said Filip. ‘It’s empty in there.’

  As the leaves turned yellow Pi and Mik often went down to the river to fish. It was Mik who wanted to do that. He liked the flowing water, liked the bubbling and rushing. Pi taught him to read the current, to see by the whirls and calm places on the water where rocks and deep places were. For someone with a trained eye the current revealed what the river bed looked like and where the fish were. Mik became a better and better fisherman.

  They gutted their catch and grilled it on the beach, sat in the evenings by the campfire and chatted and dreamed as twilight fell and the stars came out. Next year they would build a new raft, bigger and sturdier. One strong enough to reach the sea. They ate fish and fed the fire with logs. The sparks shot up into the sky. They both knew they would never go over the falls again. That was something a person did only once, and according to Bengt it couldn’t actually be done at all. They had done something impossible, and you only needed to do that once.

  Pi looked at him through the flames.

  ‘Can I try something?’

  ‘Yes. What?’

  She came round to his side of the fire. Leaned against his shoulder. He felt her warm breath in his ear. Pi sucked his earlobe; it tickled and he started to laugh. It was … nice.

  ‘I knew it.’

  ‘Knew what?’

  ‘You didn’t faint. Your breathing’s perfectly calm.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Mik.

  He didn’t feel anything in his chest – no pressure, no cramp. Only his heart beating nice and regularly.

  ‘You’ve grown,’ said Pi, leaning back, taking him in. ‘You’re almost as tall as Filip. When did that happen?’

  ‘I dunno. I haven’t noticed anything.’

  She stayed by his side and leaned her head on his shoulder. They stared into the fire. A breeze took hold of the trees. The flames flicker
ed and yellow birch leaves fluttered down around them.

  ‘It’s autumn now. And autumn’s short up here.’

  They walked home through the forest.

  ‘How short?’ said Mik.

  ‘Too short,’ said Pi.

  In the darkness they held hands.

  Mik threw his fishing bag onto the hall floor. There was a pair of shoes he didn’t recognise. Trainers, brand new and white. Adult-sized.

  ‘Hello, are you home?’ called Lena from the kitchen. ‘Someone’s come to see you.’

  Tony was sitting on the kitchen sofa, drinking coffee.

  Tony? Here? Now?

  His hair was cut short and he had a downy moustache. Thoughts and feelings flew around chaotically, collided and crashed into each other. It was unreal. Mik opened his mouth and wanted to tell Tony everything all at once, but he only stood, gaping silently and staring.

  ‘Hi,’ said Tony and laughed.

  ‘Moustache?’ said Mik.

  They sat up until late in the evening, talking. Lena made an apple cake and lit candles all over the kitchen. Mik told Tony everything. Ran around the kitchen showing how he, Pi, Oskar and Filip had survived their raft trip with rapids, starvation and the waterfall. Then the miracle when suddenly he could swim and got himself out of the Karma Snake grip. It wasn’t as much fun explaining his time with the Tormentors; he made that short. But he boasted that he was no longer afraid of dogs. Not that he liked them, but he wasn’t afraid.

  Tony didn’t say much. He smiled and laughed at Mik’s stories. The funniest parts were when Tengil’s men were about to brand the mark of Katla in his backside and he was allowed to keep what he had stolen because he was so hungry. Tony doubled over and roared with laughter. Mik was happy.

  ‘I wrote letters,’ said Mik. ‘Everything was in the letters. Did you get them?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tony. ‘They were good.’

  ‘Why didn’t you write?’

  Tony sat in silence and drew a finger across his moustache.

  ‘I couldn’t. Letters are hard, and … well.’

  ‘How long are you staying?’

  ‘Only over the weekend.’